Songbird
by Wuthering Heights
Summary: She'd never seen anything quite like him. Dark and dangerous, a hunter at his best. He'd never seen anything quite so delicate, so fragile. Something he wanted to keep. SylarXOC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Father's Son

_Set just before Sylar meets his father in Season 3. I do not own Heroes, only Samara. Enjoy!_

Humans are not proud of their ancestors, and rarely invite them round to dinner.

**Douglas Adams  
**

When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you.

**Friedrich Nietzsche**

Sylar had never met his father. He'd dreamed about it. He'd wondered about it. He'd thought about it and now, it was finally happening. He had left the Luke boy alive back at the old abandoned restaurant. He still wasn't too sure why; the boy was eerily like himself, angry, alone, power hungry. Still, what mattered now was seeing his father, the man who'd killed his mother and sold him as a child. The rage that coursed through him only seemed to strengthen him as he walked through the front door of a ratty trailer, which was obviously falling apart.

"Pathetic," he thought, with a sneer but he also felt confusion. This was where his father, _the_ father of Sylar, the most powerful being alive, lived?

Still, the disappointment was only more as he came in to an ugly old room, littered with junk and moth eaten curtains. Finding the old, frail man that was Samson Gray was worst of all though. He was beaten, pathetic. He breathed using an oxygen tank; cancer was killing him. He didn't care if Sylar killed him or not; he would die eventually. Sylar stared at him with shock as his father continued. The challenge to kill was gone as he realized how weak his prey was in comparison to him. His words echoed throughout Sylar's head.

"Your entire life is meaningless because there's no challenge. You live an unsatisfied life."

So Sylar stayed, preoccupied with thought. That's when he noticed her. He wasn't sure if she was alive or not; she was hunched over, long, dark brown hair covering her face. She wore dark, ratty clothes that were only emphasized as Sylar noticed her white, delicate hands. He couldn't see her face though and that's what made him curious. Also the fact she was in a large, over sized bird cage.

Samson noticed his son's gaze, "That's my little song bird," he explained with a toothy grin.

Sylar stared at him, long and hard, confused and also disgusted. This man was keeping a human being in a cage, who knew for how long. At least_ he_ ended it quickly.

"Now, now, don't look at me like that," said his father, with an eye roll, "I hadn't gotten all the powers I'd wanted when I found her. Still, I just couldn't kill her," he said with a shake of his head, "Not when I found little Samara," he stared over at the girl, fondly, who still had her head down.

Sylar did not ask any more questions. Then, an idea popped into his head. He was going to _test_ his father. Sure, he talked about not wanting to kill anymore, but maybe if he got a taste…

"Oh!" he gasped as he cut himself, dropping the knife quickly.

Then, holding up his hand, he and his father watched as the skin healed. Samson gaped at him.

"How did you-"

"A power I picked up from a cheerleader in California," said Sylar, waiting for his reaction.

At first, he didn't do anything, but then, Sylar was suddenly pinned up against a wall. Inwardly, he grinned; the hunt was still in him, even after all this time. Still, Sylar knew he was more powerful and was easily freed. Actually, he was a bit disappointed that he didn't put up more of a fight.

"You wouldn't die," his father gasped, "And then we'd both have it!"

"Yeah…" He didn't want him alive, this pathetic creature, "Think of it as payback," sneered Sylar, "I'll leave you here to die. Slowly and painfully."

"No, no!" he hobbled over, pleading with the boy he had sold years ago, "Please!" He added, desperately, "Kill me!"

Sylar stared at him, rolling his eyes. Then, with sudden ferocity, he knocked the man to the ground with his fists, knocking him unconscious. He just couldn't resist. What that man had done…

Sylar was just about to leave when he remembered the girl. Slowly, he walked towards her, the only noise in the room coming from the puffing of the oxygen tank.

"So, what did my father keep you here for?" he asked, low but deadly. He was curious as he sensed her ability.

And then, she looked up.

Her dark brown hair fell from her face, revealing pale, alabaster skin that had not seen the sun in a long time. Still, what Sylar first saw was the pair of big, doe-like eyes that gazed up at him. They were full of hope and wonder, an innocent soft blue, as she stared at him, dark, black lashes blinking slowly. At first, he couldn't pull his gaze from anything but her eyes but gradually he took in the soft, pink lips and the perfectly oval face. In the entire room, she seemed to glow in the darks and grays. To Sylar, she looked like an angel.

She did not answer his question; instead, her hands went to her throat, as though she could not speak.

"Oh," Sylar registered that she couldn't talk. He looked at her, at first not sure what to do, but then he turned to go as she stared after him. Her hands fell to her side as the dusty radio began to play Journey.

"Just a small town girl, livin in a lonely world  
She took the midnight train goin anywhere," the voice of Steve Perry crooned throughout the dull, rank building.

And then - the angel opened her mouth,  
"Just a city boy," Sylar stopped in his tracks in the doorway, "Born and raised in south Detroit," she sang. He slowly turned around, incredulous. She had the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. It seemed to echo like the heavens as she stared at him with big blue eyes, clutching the golden bars of her prison, "He took the midnight train going anywhere." She stopped and the two stared at each other, daring the other to speak.

Slowly, a small grin spread across Sylar's dark face.

_Hey everybody! Hope you enjoyed! If you'd life to see a picture of Ara then follow this link, .__. Also, I imagined her voice to be like the girl from Glee Cast in their cover of "Don't Stop Believing." Listen to it if you'd like. Thanks and please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Sunrock Motel

Nothing is easier than to denounce the evil doer; Nothing more difficult than understanding him. 

**Fyodor Dostoevsky**

In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must also be present.

**Francis Bacon**

They stared at each other for the longest time before finally, Ara said, "Take me with you," then, quickly, she added, "Please," like she was five and he was an angry adult.

He had opened her cage by now and slowly, she stretched out, raising her arms above her head as she stretched. Sylar watched her, fascinated.

"Why should I take you?" he asked, finally, wanting to hear her speak.

She looked up at him, much smaller than he, "I promise I won't be any trouble," she swore, "Please," she begged, big, doe-like eyes staring at him, "Please." She bit her lip, worry written across her face as she waited his answer. She was almost… childlike.

After a still pause, Sylar gave a sigh, "Alright. Come on," he said, with a wave of his hand, as he turned to go.

Her face broke out into a huge smile as she chased after him to the car.

* * *

They rode in silence, the radio playing low. Ara was happy to sit, gazing out the window in wonder, her knees pulled to her chest as she watched the world pass by. Meanwhile, Sylar sat, clutching the wheel, his face in a deep frown as he sat tall and straight. Every so often he'd glance back at her, as though to make sure she was still there. He didn't even understand what he was doing. Why had he brought her along? She was no use to him he kept thinking as they sat quietly. It'd been that way for about thirty minutes before finally, Sylar had to break the silence.

"So tell me more about your power," he said, his fingers tapping against the wheel.

"Oh, well,I'm not strong at all like you," she said, modestly. He glanced over at her blushing face as she continued, "But I'm good with moods," she explained, "Like I can influence a cheering crowd or an angry riot. Make them angrier or calmer. Happy, sad, emotional, you know," she said with a wave of her hand, "Still, it doesn't work if you're super mad and I try to make you incredibly happy," she said, thoughtfully, "I can calm you down a bit but not always…"

"Huh," Sylar said as he thought. It wasn't a power he _needed_, he supposed. He didn't have to kill her, even though he still felt that hunger to take it. Somehow though, it wasn't as strong, "So, before," he referred back to his father's home, he looked over at her, "You were trying to convince me to free you?" he asked, curiously.

She looked down and blushed. Sylar watched the rosy pink on her pale white cheeks and felt… turned on. He blinked, shocked with himself. He hadn't felt this way since Elle died, when she'd lied to him. Elle didn't care about him, he realized, she cared about power and the bad they could do together. Ara was so different from Elle, so much more… innocent.

"I was," she admitted, and then glanced up at him, eyes wide, "Trying to convince you, I mean. But I knew you were good. I knew," she said confidently, with a nod of her head.

He scoffed, "I know plenty of people who would disagree."

She looked at him, thoughtfully, "Everyone does bad things."

"You do realize I can do everything your father can do, right, Ara?" he said, impatiently, "I'm not a hero. I didn't go in there to 'rescue' you, I was there to kill my father," he drummed his fingers against the wheel, eyes back on the road, "I just didn't realize the cancer had already gotten to him," he said, rather dejectedly.

"I know," she said, happily, "But I'm just glad you were there. You saved me and you're not him. You're my hero," she beamed, smiling up at him.

Sylar looked at her, skeptically, "Don't you have any family, Ara?" he asked, wondering how the girl had ended up in that cage.

"No," she said, solemnly, "Mr. Gray killed my mom and dad and my brother three years ago," she said, sadly, "I watched," her face fell thinking about it.

"How'd he find out about your power?" he asked.

"We were neighbors," she explained, "I was," she bit her lip, concentrating, "About seventeen when my power began to manifest and he heard me singing in the woods. The next day, he was at my home-"

"I know how it ends," said Sylar, plainly, staring straight ahead.

She nodded, "So why'd you wanna kill your father?" she asked, curiously.

Sylar glanced over at her large, blue eyes and she smiled reassuringly, "He killed my mother," he said, suddenly, "And then sold me when I was a child," his tone burnt with bitter resentment and his eyes narrowed at the thought.

Ara watched his hands clench the wheel tightly, "He's going to die alone. Alone and painfully and, if you believe in heaven, well," she shook her head, solemnly, "He ain't going there."

Sylar laughed suddenly. She really was quite amusing, nodding her head so seriously. She looked up in surprise, smiling in delight.

* * *

Samara Reichs had never seen anyone quite like him. She noticed him before the old man had and quickly glanced up before looking down again. She knew it was better not to maintain eye contact after all these years. It was like a challenge to these predator types.

She peeked every so often, just to look at him. She hadn't seen another human being besides Samson in years and he already seemed to glow with strength and power. Tall and dark, he strolled right into the trailer, not even glancing at her. She quickly looked up again and saw long eyebrows above angry, dark brown eyes, determination and rage all in one. He was thin but strong. Maybe not one you'd describe as handsome at first, but Ara thought she'd never seen anyone quite like him.

She watched the two quarrel and saw him glance over at her before quickly looking down. She felt her cheeks flush under his gaze and then, she prayed. She prayed that he'd save her. He was good despite the hunger. When she looked into Samson's eyes she saw coldness, blankness, an uncaring evil. This man, Gabriel, was not like that. When he stood in that doorway, Ara saw a hero.

* * *

They pulled up into shady, pay by the hour motel with a neon sign that said "Sunrock Motel," though the letters "t" and "S" were burnt out. Before, Ara had offered to drive if Sylar was tired when he quickly pointed out that it had been years since she'd driven and probably not well since being a teenager, plus, she had no idea where they were going.

"Okay!" she said, happily, not at all offended as she bounced out of the car.

Sylar caught up with her easily, towering over her as she hurried to catch up with him as he came up to the motel's front desk. A greasy looking old man with long, slimy hair in a low ponytail and a wife beater looked up as they entered. He smirked widely as he took in the pretty, young girl at Sylar's side. She stepped back and hid behind Sylar, clutching his jacket. He glanced down at her shy face buried in his jacket and then turned to the seedy gentleman in front of them.

"One room, please," he said, pulling out his wallet.

The man flashed a dirty grin as he stared openly at the girl behind him, "Will that be per hour?" he asked, slyly.

Ara squeaked, hiding more behind Sylar, whose eyes narrowed, his hands turning into fists at his side. He could kill him easily, he thought, he was just another weak human. He could feel Ara trembling behind him and only felt rage at this disgusting creep. Still, they needed a place to stay and he really needed some sleep.

Gabriel just slipped the man the money, not even bothering to respond. The man smirked as he handed over the keys.

"Have a good night," he said, winking at Ara as Sylar turned away.

She quickly spun around and chased after Sylar, terrified to be alone in the same room with that man.

"What a creep," she said, trotting to keep up with Sylar's long stride, "You wanted to kill him, didn't you?" she asked, looking up at him, eyes widening.

He glanced down at her finally, his hands still in fists. He unclenched them and looked at her, warily, "How did you know?" he asked, suspiciously. The possibilities had already sprouted in his mind. "Maybe she's a mind reader," he thought, "A power I could use."

She shrugged, innocently, "You had a funny look on your face," she said with a giggle, "I thought you were going to lunge across the desk."

Sylar felt himself deflate as he realized she had no power. He would have loved to be able to read minds, but he was also secretly... relieved? He frowned at himself.

"Here's our room," he muttered, opening the door to a dingy, dirty looking room.

The two walked in and Samara instantly broke out into a smile, "It has a bed!" she said, excitedly, pointing, "And a TV!" She immediately flopped on, grabbing the remote.

"It's a dump," Sylar said, dropping his duffel bag on the ground, taking in the disgusting room, "But it'll do."

"It's nice," Samara said, happily, "I haven't slept in a bed in years," she said, stretching out, "Oh, wait," she sat up, "There's only one bed," she stated, face in thought. Sylar stared at her, feeling again the urge, "That's okay," she said with a shrug, "I'll sleep on the couch."

She flopped down on the moth eaten thing, closing her eyes, a look of contentment on her face. Sylar pulled off his shirt, glancing over at her resting place. Not a line of worry despite the horrors she'd encountered. She opened one eye, feeling the heat of his gaze on her face.

"Night, Gabriel," she said, smiling up at him.

"Good night, Samara," he replied, slipping into bed and using telekinesis to turn off the lights.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Fear

The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.

**Joseph Conrad**

No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible.

**George Chakiris**

Ara woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty beyond belief. She glanced over to see Sylar still, fast asleep. She gazed at him for longer than necessary, taking in his interesting face. Asleep, the anger and hunger was gone. Instead, a steady, almost content look was on face as he peacefully rested. She smiled to herself and put on her worn out sneakers, knocking the fronts on the floor to get them into place. Then, she slipped out of the room, closing the door as quietly as she could.

She went down the stairs and across, passing the front office as silently as possible. She reached the vending machine with a sigh of relief, able to pass the desk without the notice of that creep, putting in the small change she had with her. Just as she was about to press the button though, she heard a voice behind her.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here so late?" the voice jeered, causing goose bumps to appear all over her arms.

She spun around to see the creepy, pony tailed man from the front desk, a dirty grin on his face.

"I-I'm just getting water," she stuttered, turning back to press the button, "I'm not looking for any trouble," she stated, more confidently, willing her powers to stop what this man had in mind.

He batted it off, too intent on his task. He stepped closer, the horrible smile still on his face, "Trouble? Who said anything about trouble?" he said, innocently, stepping closer yet again.

She backed up instantly, glancing back to the stairs behind him. He caught her look and grinned cruelly, "Oh no. Your boyfriend won't be saving you now, sweetheart," He was too close now and Ara couldn't stand it.

She spun around to run when he grabbed her arm, "Oh no you don't!" he grunted and she cried out as he slammed her against the wall.

He smirked down at her and she could smell his disgusting breath. She hit her head and felt dizzy, barely able to support herself, "G-gabriel," she said, quietly, "Gabriel!" she said, louder, and the dirty man's sweaty hand came shooting across her mouth.

"Shut up!" he snarled, his hands pinning hers above her head, "Don't wanna cause a scene, do we?" he smirked.

"No, no, we wouldn't," said a dark, eerily calm voice coming from right behind him. Ara looked to see Gabriel, standing on the bottom of the stairs, dressed in black, his face cold. How had he known? She wondered. She saw his eyes darken as he stood, tall and dark. His face was an emotionless mask as he took in the sight before him. To Ara, he looked like a dark angel.

The disgusting man spun around, letting Ara drop to the ground. She blinked, trying to steady her vision. Meanwhile, the man spun around, looking for the source of the voice, Gabriel gone.

"Who's there?" he shouted, "I'm warning you! This-" But no one would ever know what he'd meant to say as he was thrown backwards from the girl.

He was pinned against the opposite wall by an invisible force as Gabriel strode out of the shadows, his right hand raised, holding the man in place.

"Pathetic," he spat out, "Disgusting. Why on Earth should I even let you live?" he sneered at the man, who gazed wide eyed in horror at the man in front of him.

"P-please!" he blubbered, "I meant no harm!"

Sylar's lips twitched in the semblance of a smile, "Oh, you meant no harm, did you?" he said, mockingly, his right hand tightening slightly. The man instantly began clutching at his throat, kicking the wall behind him as he felt a force squeezing his airways shut, "Beg me," he ordered, coldly, "Beg me to let you live."

"P-please!" he squirmed, "Please!" he squealed like a pig, still frantically kicking.

Sylar turned his head slowly to one side and smiled with no teeth, "No," he stated, calmly, and the man's eyes widened in horror as Sylar raised his other hand, drawing a straight line across his forehead. He screamed and screamed, before Sylar let him fall to the ground, dead. He smiled at his victory, eyes cold, when he heard quiet crying behind him. Instantly, the smile dropped and he turned back to the girl behind him. She was still on the ground, holding her knees to her chest, as she cried.

"Ara?" he asked, softly, stepping forward, "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked. She shook her head, quietly, "Do I scare you?" he asked, quietly, still, "Now, now do you realize what I can do?"

She looked up at him, tears still in her eyes. She didn't say anything, instead, stood up and threw herself in his arms, hugging him tightly. He took a step back in surprise as she buried her face in his shoulder, arms around his neck. Then, slowly, he hugged her back, the darkness around them like a blanket.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Hope

A torn jacket is soon mended; but hard words bruise the heart of a child.

**Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**

"Yearn to understand first and to be **understood** second."

**Beca Lewis**

She cried for a few moments, still holding onto him for dear life in the dark alley way behind the motel. Slowly, He hugged her back after a shocked pause, tentatively reaching his arms around her. He hadn't felt anyone so close to him in a long time. Only Elle had hugged him like this, but she'd been manipulating him for her own uses. It felt unnatural to have someone so close, but nonetheless, he enjoyed the feel of her against him. And then, he pulled away.

"We have to go," he said, turning with her small hand in his, heading back to the car.

He motioned with his hand and his bag came flying out of the open room upstairs as Samara spoke.

"Thank you," she said, kindly, "For saving me. Again," she looked down, shyly, embarrassed.

He looked over his shoulder at her, giving her a weary smile, "Let's not make it three, okay?" he said, softly.

She nodded, giving him a timid smile. The tears were still on her face he noticed as he hurriedly opened the side door and let her slide in. He followed suit on the other side.

"Better not be discovered at the scene," he muttered, starting up the engine and backing out.

They drove quietly for a half an hour or so as the radio came on.

"'Living on a Prayer' for all you night time wanderers," the announcer's voice came over the radio as Bon Jovi began to play.

Ara smiled widely. It was one of her favorite songs. She hummed along with the silent Sylar beside her before the final chorus came on and she couldn't help it; she had to join.

"Whooah, we're half way there," she joined in, her melodious voice easily overpowering the male singer,  
"Livin on a prayer  
Take my hand and we'll make it - I swear  
Whooah Livin on a prayer," she sang happily, her hand tapping along to the beat.

Suddenly, the car swerved; Sylar's eyes heavy. She immediately broke off and he straightened the car, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" she asked, "What happened?"

What had happened? Sylar wondered himself. He'd been driving and her voice, God, her voice! He'd gotten distracted and lost concentration, completely attuned to listening to the small angel beside him. Then the car swerved and he was back to present. Was he not strong enough to resist? He mentally slapped himself. Of course, he was strong enough! He was Sylar! He had more powers than anyone in existence! But he needed to resist.

"Your voice," he muffled, "Distracting."

She looked down, apologetically, "Sorry. I forget the effect sometimes," She looked over at him with wide, blue eyes, "I don't really understand it," she admitted, "I don't understand the effects or what it's like. I only hear myself."

Sylar didn't reply, concentrating on the road, his breath erratic. He wanted to understand, too.

She continued, "While we're on the subject of apologies, I'm sorry you didn't get enough sleep," she said, her mouth pouted in worry, "I just wanted some water and he- he came," she muttered the last bit, looking down.

Sylar felt no lies coming from the small girl as he glanced at her, not saying anything.

"How did you know?" she asked, quietly, looking up at him with wide, blue eyes.

"Know?" he asked, glancing sideways at her.

"Know that I was there. That _he_ was there," she asked, curiously.

He smiled wirily, "I picked up my ears from an auto mechanic almost a year ago," he looked over, expecting the typical horror-filled expression he was so used to receiving. He imagined how she'd order him to stop the car and she'd scramble out, screaming and running in terror. "Good," he thought, assuredly, but felt a twinge of regret. Still, he couldn't give her what she needed and she was probably better off in the real world.

Instead of screaming, she simply nodded, pursuing her lips slightly as she stared straight ahead.

"Does that scare you?" he asked his voice low as he followed suit, staring straight ahead at the road. His hands clenched on the wheel, "Do you think I'm a monster?" his voice was dark, haunted, as his eyes stared out into the blank night of the open road.

She paused, her face slightly in a frown as she thought. He glanced at her before she finally answered, "No, Gabriel."

There was no tingle of a lie in her statement. Just a simple no. He looked over at her in surprise.

"No?" he asked, flabbergasted, "I kill people for power, a power that you do have by the way," he added, "And you're not terrified of me?"

She looked over at him, head tilted slightly, curiosity in her gaze, "I know I should be scared of you," she finally admitted, "But I'm not. I think," she paused again. Gabriel was yearning her response, mentally kicking himself for not finding a mind reading power in the past. She continued, "I think that you are a good person, Gabriel… who has a really bad addiction."

A pause and then, he grinned widely, "What am I? An alcoholic?" he asked, mockingly.

"More like a drug addict," she stated in a matter of fact tone, "But ten times worse."

"So it's probably not a good idea to stay with me," he ended, looking over at her, eyes dark, "I might end up killing you."

Samara looked up at him with big blue eyes, "But I want to stay," she argued, "I won't bother you, Mr. Gabriel, I promise," she said, solemnly.

"Why do you want to stay with me, Ara?! That's what I really don't get," he asked, angrily, frustrated, "I'm the son of the man who caged you up for three years! I don't even know what you want from me! Protection? I can't give you that; I'm on the edge of killing you at every moment!" He slammed his hand down angrily on the wheel, "Just go back to the normal world, Ara, I don't want your power!"

They sat in shocked silence for a moment, Ara stunned and Sylar frustrated, mainly with himself. He'd definitely scared her now. "Good," he thought to himself, but now he'd alienated the only person who didn't look at him like he was some disgusting creature rising from the depths. She still wasn't talking. Was she too terrified to even speak? Finally, though, Ara answered.

"The reason I want to stay… is that… I trust you, Gabriel," she said, hesitantly, slowly, looking out the side window into the night, "I feel safe when I'm with you. I know it doesn't really make sense, but I think I'm_ supposed _to be here with you," she said, her face in a slight frown as she thought.

"You're right… that doesn't make **any** sense," he said, with a smirk, adding some humor to the dim situation.

She smiled, "I'm probably crazy, but please. Let me stay," she said, hopefully.

He looked over at her, gazing into her trusting, blue eyes and he couldn't help it. Couldn't resist as he took in her angel like, pale face, her hopeful smile. He sighed heavily, giving in.

"Fine, fine," he said, wearily, "But don't blame **me** if I end up killing you."

Ara only smiled widely, turning back to the front seat.


End file.
